ASS

In bahamas I
knew this ass
was mine!

In Rio,
I could feel it!
100% Lockdown!

In Fiji we feast
on sea bass, with
thoughts of
continuous ass
tapping all night.

We exchanged
seductive, yet
deductive gaze
in Hawaii, but she
refuses.

Damn!!

In anger I ventured to
Syria then India,
to study the ancient
ways of Karma sutra using
Assyrian astrology.

At Cambridge
we postulate, but could not
speculate the mass her of
ass.

Never seen before, this
ass earns enough audience
than the royal theatre.

Theatrically men fuss over
her but she remains a modest
lass.

In class I gaze upon her at’a
distance, from every conceivable
angle, hoping she won’t know.

But she does..

I gathered all there is to
know from her smile
to the sweet tone in her
voice.

Food technology was her
favourite subject.

I reverie in lust.

So lost I begin to
speak in mandarin.

So lost I begin to
decipher the
Da Vinci code.

Like Columbus
I was lost in her ass atlas

Like Mozart I construct
sweet aural to make
her mind twerk.

Like superman your ass
is my kyrptonite.

In cold winter months,
you feel cold not, but
remain niche and propionate

On a aspect of 4 to 1
my blood rises irrationally
to be keep me warm,
courtesy of your ass.

My plan B is to win your
heart before I win your ass.

But when I see that ass, I
just wish we’ll fuss less and
love more.

© Dotun Gb | Poems

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